Yuletide Treasure
by N3GatorFan
Summary: It is Henry and Jo's first Christmas as a dating couple. When they and Abe are snowed in during a Christmas blizzard, Henry has a revelation that could change his life forever. Set a few years after 1x22.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**_ : The concept, canon, and canon characters belong to _Forever_ creator Matt Miller and Warner Bros. Studios. All other characters, the plot for the story, and Henry's flashbacks are my own creation. I have posted my story here, and I don't profit from it. (Translation: I don't own _Forever_ , but if I did, we would have a second Christmas-themed episode now.)

 **Author's Note** : Happy holidays, everyone! I wanted to give you a romantic Jenry fan fic. (In case you're wondering, this is set a few months after Henry and Jo begin to date, and it's between one and a half to three and a half years after 1x22.) I hope that you will enjoy it.

By the way, this will be the only story in which I post five chapters at once. As the chapters are much shorter than what I usually write, I felt free to publish all five at once. (That, and it's only two days before Christmas, and I wanted everyone to enjoy the full story for the holiday.)

There are general references for every episodes.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 _This isn't like me_.

Henry released the star on top of the tree. He took a step back and inspected the tree's ornaments one last time. The strings of cranberries and popcorn kernels ran between the antique baubles which hung from the tree's branches. Unlit candles and silk bows adorned the spaces between the ornaments. As far as he could tell, the tree appeared to be a proper one.

He looked around the room and peered into the kitchen. Holly and ivy garlands outlined every window, door, and table in the kitchen and living room. More garlands wrapped around the staircases' bannisters like scarves. Abe stepped onto a stool and started to nail yet another piece of greenery over the lintel of the folding doors separating the living room and kitchen.

Henry sighed as he tried to keep his mind anchored in the present. He hadn't celebrated Christmas since the year before he had left England aboard _The Empress of Africa_. After that fateful night at sea, the holiday had been more of an acknowledgement in passing than a cause for reveling. Yet, this year, as it was his and Jo's first Christmas as a courting couple, he felt that he needed to reconsider his position on the holiday so that she would regard him as a suitable prospect for marriage.

The newest ornament swayed and attracted Henry's attention. He watched as the decoration's pendulum-like movements slow and then stop, allowing him to get a better look at it.

"Mistletoe?" He hadn't mentioned it when he and Abe had discussed the decorations.

Abe stepped off the stool, picked it up with his free hand, and stared at his father. "You, of all people, know it's traditional." He thought for a moment. "Don't tell me your parents believed that any pagan associations were grounds for not using it in their holiday decor."

"We did hang it from the bottom of several kissing boughs located throughout the manor." He glanced over Abe's head as a vague sense of nervousness began to take root in him. "With the exception of tonight, it'll be just the two of us here. We can easily omit it, and I doubt that Jo would even notice its absence."

"I'm not planning to participate in the tradition tonight."

His impish son's motive for the plant's inclusion suddenly became clear. "Abraham!"

"You'll thank me later." With that, Abe smirked and walked toward the kitchen with his tools.

Henry cast a wary eye at the decoration. He suddenly suspected that it and a copious amount of wassail might have led to his conception centuries ago.

He huffed in resignation. Admittedly, he _did_ yearn for a lover's kiss from Jo while they stood under the mistletoe tonight. As they was conducting a proper courtship—or, given the modern social standards, as proper as they could—they had been limiting themselves to chaste intimate gestures and touches. Lately, though, her kisses, embraces, and caresses of his face and hands were all he could think about at times, and his ruminations were creating some very ungentlemanlike thoughts and impulses. If he and Jo were to kiss according to tradition tonight, he didn't trust himself to be a perfect gentleman in that moment.

That was not to say that he wasn't tempted to act on his impulses. He had broken the rules of proper courtship on numerous occasions and in various ways. Yet, with Jo, it was different. Everything about her made him desire to uphold his standards, even when courting. Hopefully, he could maintain his propriety until the appropriate time to consummate their relationship.

The bell to the front door jingled. Henry raced through the living spaces, down the stairs, and through the shop's retail area. He arrived at the door just in time to see Jo struggle to keep it open while holding two bags of groceries.

He grabbed the door and held it for her. He reached out for one of the bags, and she handed it to him. As she cleared the entry, she flashed him a grateful grin, rose onto her toes, and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks."

The phantom impression of her lips on his cheek led his mind to the mistletoe in the living room. Fortunately, the weight of the bag prompted him to keep his focus on the mission that he had given her. He studied the bag's contents and noticed that all of the ingredients for tomorrow's breakfast were there.

"I hope that you didn't mind doing this for us. Abe couldn't leave the stove, and he naturally enlisted me as his taste tester." He hated to use subterfuge, especially after what had happened during their first year of working together, but, in this case, he had wanted to surprise her with the decorations.

"Mind?" She chortled. "It's not every day that I get to see where you shop for groceries. It kind of reminds me of both La Marqueta and the _bodega_ in my old neighborhood."

At that moment, her phone rang. He motioned for the other bag, and she placed it in his arm before reaching into her coat pocket. She looked at the device and rolled her eyes.

"Speaking of which." She tapped her screen. "Hello, Mom."

"Where are you?" Mrs. Martinez's voice filled the air, and Henry could hear the sound of a boiling pot of food on the other end of the conversation.

Jo turned her head and smiled at Henry. "I'm at Henry's."

"That's wonderful." She paused. "I've just received an alert from the city saying that there's a city-wide travel ban starting about midnight due to the coming blizzard."

Jo's eyes widened. Henry nodded his confirmation of a similar receipt ten minutes before.

"What about it?"

"I want you to stay there until either the ban is lifted or Lt. Reece orders you to return to work."

Jo became alarmed. "But, Mami—."

"No buts, Josephine." Henry almost dropped the groceries at the sound of Mrs. Martinez's strict tone of voice. "It's not worth your life to drive here in this weather. You can always celebrate the holiday with us later." Her voice softened. "Besides, it'll give you more time with your boyfriend and his roommate."

Henry's mind and heart started to race. If only Mrs. Martinez knew what her instructions to Jo had just done to him…

Jo sighed in resignation. "Okay. I will. Be careful yourselves. Tell everyone I said hi and that I'm sorry I can't make it this year."

"That, I can do. Tell Henry and Abe that I said hello."

Jo winked at Henry. "I will." After saying their goodbyes, they hung up.

Jo sighed as she pocketed her phone. It wasn't often that she was exasperated with the people whom she cared about.

"What is it?"

She chuckled. "My mother wants to sabotage—" she wiggled her fingers in the air while saying the last word "—our courtship."

He smiled. "Between my upbringing and your fondness for Jane Austen's novels, our chaperones want to ensure that our courtship isn't strictly platonic."

"Tell me about it."

She quickly sobered as they neared the door to the stairwell. Apparently sensing that he noticed her frustration and melancholy, she turned to him. "I'm sorry. This is the first time that I've gotten some idea of how you feel when you can't tell people that Abe's your son."

His heart broke for her. Her love for him and her maternal instincts and affection toward Abe were becoming more obvious to everyone, including her mother, and Henry wished that he would make it easier for Jo. As he couldn't change his condition, he longed for some other way to ease her concerns. At this point, he would even claim Abe as his step-son when talking to others if it would help her.

He inhaled and reminded himself of the day. "I suppose it's natural. If we were to marry, he would be your step-son."

She chortled. "I'm still wrapping my mind around the idea that if we got married and Abe and Fawn got married, I would be a great-grandmother at my age."

"And you would make a very lovely and youthful one."

She playfully nudged him with her shoulder. "Are you trying to be charming?" She grinned. "Fortunately for you, it's totally working."

The tantalizing aroma of the Christmas meal drifted down the stairs and into the shop. Jo inhaled. "Turkey and stuffing? You're going all out."

"As I am seeking your hand in marriage, I felt that you deserved more than our usual gift exchange this year."

"You're putting your best foot forward, huh?" Her elfish grin deprived him of the ability to formulate any response.

Henry abruptly remembered leaving the front door unlocked. He set the bags down on the desk. "Go on up. I'll join you in a minute."

"Okay." She leaned over and kissed him on the lips before disappearing through the door.

He pivoted and headed back to the door. As he turned the lock and ensured that the sign was flipped to "closed", he peered out the glass. Several light flurries had fallen throughout the day, leaving only a dusting of snow on the ground. Now, though, the snowflakes were falling faster than usual, and the wind carried them much more rapidly toward the buildings and to the shop's door. Cars and pedestrians, either oblivious to the growing threat or attempting to return home without being caught in the suddenly treacherous conditions, continued to pass by the shop.

Henry inhaled. The last time that a storm had come in much earlier than expected, his life was changed forever. He wasn't superstitious, but what did this portend?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

As Henry took the last few steps, he could hear Jo and Abe laughing. Once he reached the landing and walked around the bannister, he observed Jo tasting a sample of Abe's dish. Her eyes closed as she pulled the spoon out of her mouth and handed it back to Abe. Smiling at her delight, Henry set the bags down on an unused spot on the island and began to shelf the groceries.

"Hmm. That is delicious."

"We have some eggnog in the refrigerator if you want to wash it down."

Wanting to serve her, Henry stepped over to the cabinet, removed a glass from it, and set it on the island. He then opened the refrigerator, took out the pitcher, and closed the door.

As he turned toward the island, he felt something bump him. His grip on the handle suddenly loosened. Within the next second, Jo cried out just as the pitcher shattered on the floor.

He looked at Jo. Her purple blouse was drenched in eggnog. A quick visual examination revealed that, fortunately, none of the pitcher's glass shards had cut her.

"I'm sorry." Henry swallowed to control his humiliation. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." Her voice quivered for a moment. "I'm just surprised."

"Let's get you into something drier." He walked around the island and headed toward the other half of his and Abe's living quarters.

"I think that I might need a shower too. I didn't realize how sticky it would feel."

He led her through the hallway and pointed to the bathroom door. He quickly entered his bedroom and removed an NYPD t-shirt and sweatpants from among his clothes. When he returned to the bathroom, he heard the water running.

He knocked on the door. She cracked it open and reached out for the clothes. He placed them in her hands.

"Pops?"

Abe's voice beaconed Henry into the kitchen. He left Jo and returned to his son. As he entered the room, his eyes met Abe's.

Abe placed one hand on his hip and held out a roll of paper towels. "Here."

Henry rolled up his sleeves, took the roll, and tore off a few towels. As he knelt to sop up the spilled liquid, the mistletoe caught his eye. "You're enjoying being our chaperone, aren't you?"

"I consider this revenge for all those curfews and questions about my activities when I was growing up."

Henry turned to Abe. "If you remember, your mother frequently asked about your whereabouts. I was more concerned about your curfew and your activities as I was attempting to teach you how to properly conduct yourself around women prior to marriage. Until you had begun to date Fawn recently, however, I was starting to believe that I had failed you as a father in that regard."

"Failed me, or you didn't realize that I had a bit of your Uncle Dennis in me?"

Henry smiled at the still surprising familial connection between them. "Fair point."

Henry gathered the wet towels and discarded them into the trash can. He surveyed the rooms. Their preparations seemed to be a considerable amount of work for just one day.

He looked back at his son. This was the first Christmas that he and Abe would celebrate together this way. "Do you miss all this?"

"Nah. It would have been difficult to celebrate given the circumstances. I think the parties at work made up for the lack of Christmases in my childhood." He paused and smiled. "I don't mind doing this for you and Jo, though. So far, it's been fun."

"Easy for you to say. You've hung the naughtiest of all Christmas decorations just so we would violate the rules of courtship."

"Why are you so tense?"

Abe's suddenly concerned look brought Henry's terse voice to his attention. He softened his tone. "By order of her mother, Jo's our guest until the travel ban is lifted."

Abe stared in disbelief. "You're worried about _that_?"

Henry lowered his eyes to the floor and sighed. "I want everything, including my conduct, to be perfect for Jo. I don't want to mess things up with an inadvertent act of impropriety on my part."

"If you think that Jo's in love with the idea of dating someone who've stepped out of a Jane Austen novel, don't." Abe leaned on the counter next to the stove and looked him in the eye. "She skipped a romantic trip to Paris with Isaac because she wanted to explore the city with you. And that was before she learned that you hadn't been honest about your age."

Henry smiled at the memory. "I suppose you're right. It's rare to find one good woman in life. For me to find _two_ marvelous women—."

Abe straightened himself and laid a hand on his father's shoulder. "You're always saying that fate brought you, Mom, and me together. Maybe it has a hand in your and Jo's relationship too."

Feeling calmer but uncertain about the veracity of Abe's statement, Henry nodded.

The younger Morgan glanced toward the hallway. "Come on. Let's make some more eggnog before Jo gets out of the shower."

By the time that they moved the pot of fresh eggnog onto a trivet to cool, Henry heard footsteps coming toward them. His heart skipped a beat at the sound.

He turned and noticed Jo strolling toward them. Her drying, combed hair hypnotically swayed with each step that she took. The t-shirt, which was a nearly perfect fit on him, was loose-fitting on her, and the sleeves fell just above the crooks of her elbows. The sweatpants' drawstring, which he barely tolerated, tied the pants onto her perfectly. The rolled-up legs allowed her ankles and feet to be the only skin showing on her legs.

Even when wearing his other "uniform"—as she, Lucas, and Hanson (Mike, as Henry had begun to call him in recent months) called the NYPD-issued sweat suit and t-shirt—she looked as though she had stepped off a pedestal and into his world. He inhaled as he fought the urge to meet her where she stood and passionately kiss her.

She reached behind her head and chuckled. "I'm glad that you don't own a pair of jeans. I can almost hear Arturo scolding you about the folds."

It was Henry's turn to laugh. Jo was right. Arturo believed that well-fitted clothes were individual works of art which accentuated a man's physical attributes. He would be greatly offended if someone folded the slightest crease where it didn't belong.

Henry's gaze followed Jo as she walked through the kitchen and into the living room. With a concentrated look on her face, she surveyed every detail as she would a crime scene.

He suddenly became very nervous, and he followed her to the fireplace. She was the product of a time in which brightly adorned Christmas trees, outdoor light displays, and numerous figurines depicting Santa Claus and snowmen were commonplace during the season. He had never thought that she would find fault with his and Abe's attempts to properly decorate the apartment.

She turned from the end table near the sofa and looked at him. "It's so green in here."

He reached a hand behind his head. "If you were to visit our family estate during the holiday season, you would find a very similar, but not as concentrated, adornment of the manor's interior." He still could not bring himself to call his inheritance of a property mortgaged to finance his father's abominable enterprise and misappropriation of Morgan Shipping's long-time mission as his.

The light in Jo's eyes and her smile cut through his thoughts and directed his attention to her. "I love it."

She then giggled. "This beats the explosion of tinsel at the precinct."

Henry's growing chuckle turned into a full, hearty laugh. Whoever had been in charge of the 11th Precinct's decorations this year had covered nearly every unused space on Jo's floor with gaudy, metallic garlands. Every time that Henry had walked to Jo's desk, he had expected the floors to be covered with it as well.

She stepped toward him. "After seeing this, I think I might volunteer to do the decorations next year, and I'll track down whoever did them this year and tell them what I think."

"What if you learn the perpetrator was Lt. Reece?"

She smirked. "I'm putting you in the line of fire and let you lecture her on what a proper Christmas decor should be."

Jo drew near him, and his mind went blank. Anything that she wanted, he would give it to her.

"What was Christmas like for you years ago?"

The more painful memories pushed their way into the forefront of his mind and threatened to crowd out the ones that Jo wanted to know about. He willed the bitter ones back for her sake. "For us, the Christmas season started on St. Nicholas Day—December 6th—and lasted until Epiphany, which we called Twelfth Night. It was a time of parties, balls and masquerades, and social visits. Mother and Father received invitations to festivities from family, friends, and Father's business associates every year, and my parents would reciprocate by inviting everyone to gatherings at our estate.

"The parties always followed a specific order of events. After the hosts greeted the guests, men and women separated themselves to discuss their respective domains and to gossip. If the conversation became dull, the men would play billiards and cards while the women would engage in the arts.

"Dinner was served about seven o'clock in the evening. The feasts consisted of various soups, fish, goose, beef, Christmas pie—the modern equivalent might be a turducken pie but made from birds found on the hosts' estate—fruit, blancmange, jellies, Christmas pudding, mince pies, wine, and wassail. Having partaken of their meal earlier in the day, the servants would wait on everyone as they ate.

"When dinner ended, everyone returned to their previous activities. Eventually, a gentleman would start to play his fiddle, and everyone would walk onto the floor to dance. When everyone tired but did not feel the desire to leave, they would sing carols and tell stories. The festivities would last into the early hours of the morning, even on Christmas.

"On Christmas morning, we would attend church—."

Jo wrinkled her eyebrows. "Church? I thought—."

"It was socially mandatory as it was a display of our religious devotion." Jo threw her head back in acknowledgement. "Even if one had a legitimate reason for missing the service, such as childbirth or tending to a patient in his or her final moments of life, society viewed one's absence as scandalous."

"You're speaking from personal experience."

Henry marveled at her. He was still amazed that his personal observations and life experiences were no longer couched in academic or clinical terms—that his life was an open book for Jo to read.

She shifted her weight. "Did you attend any of the parties and balls?"

He nodded his head. "I did, but not until after I had reached the age of 16. Father ensured that I attended my first party to establish business and political connections that he had seen as crucial to my success after my graduation from Oxford. Prior to that, my siblings and I would receive our gifts on St. Nicholas Day, and we would spend our parents' balls and parties in the nursery with our nursemaid. If Father and Mother were away at someone else's gathering, we would sneak out of the nursery and occupied our time with all sorts of diversions until our nursemaid found us and sent us to bed."

She smiled. "You were the ringleader."

He gave her a look of mocked offense. "Have you to know, my brother Edward sometimes initiated it. Although it was my responsibility to be an excellent example to my younger siblings, he managed to convince me to become involved in his escapades. Even our sisters Grace and Margaret would join in our frolics." He smiled at a memory. "One year, we rehearsed a play that Grace had written for our parents."

"I bet you were quite the charming actor in your family."

He glanced down at the floor. "I don't know about that. I've always thought that my siblings were more talented than I was."

"I doubt that. You can be pretty dramatic when you want to be." She thought for a moment. "What about you and Nora?"

He started to tell Jo about the last party that he and Nora had attended, but he couldn't as another memory rushed into its place. "I met Nora at a Christmas party."

His eyes began to dart around the room as the unbidden memory overwhelmed him. Was that the real reason he had shunned the holiday?

"A bad memory?"

Jo's voice and hands enclosing around his drew him out of the past. He willed his gaze to direct itself to her. "It's just something that I hadn't thought about in a very long while."

Jo released one hand and guided him to the sofa. Feeling a little dazed because of the memory, he was grateful for Jo's physical support. Once seated, Jo took his hand again.

The memory of that soiree pulled him back to the past, but Jo's caress of his hands reminded him of the present. "I was 18 and had returned from Oxford at the time. As the men around me talked, I saw her sitting with the other women. I was immediately smitten with her. Noticing my distraction, Father introduced me to Mr. Barrington, her father and one of Father's new business associates. Mr. Barrington asked a servant to call her over to us, and, upon her arrival, he made the introduction. The music started, and I asked her if I could have a dance. To my surprise, she accepted my offer, and we danced two sets." He inhaled as he remembered their kiss under the mistletoe and her plucking the final berry from the bush later that evening. "When she left our estate with her parents, I knew that I wanted to call on her every chance that I could while in London."

He drew his lips together. They were very happy then. How did things turn out so wrong afterward? How did he let his infatuation with her blind him to her true nature?

"Hey." Jo's soft, calming voice prompted him to look into her eyes. "You can't blame yourself for not knowing what she would do to you later. Even if you had picked up on something about her but didn't know what it was, she probably hid it from you because she was starting to fall for you that night."

As Jo stroked his fingers, Henry contemplated her words. Her theory was quite plausible. Centuries later, he would attempt to hide his true nature from a questioning Jo because of his feelings toward her and his fear that she would reject him once she knew the truth. Surprisingly, his fear had been unfounded, and Jo's knowledge of his condition had enabled their relationship to progress to this point.

He studied her as her words took hold in his mind. How did she obtain a wisdom far beyond her years?

She smiled at him. "So, we can blame you for the month-long holiday season, office parties, Christmas plays, decking the halls, and overeating?"

Henry swallowed. He had always felt that the Victorians' adaption of what they had read in Charles Dickens' _A Christmas Carol_ had erased the preceding eras' celebration from history and memory. Just as he opened his mouth, he remembered their colleagues' discussions of Christmas plays and cantatas, his and Jo's invitations to the NYPD and OCME office parties, the weatherproof evergreen garlands on the city's street lamps, Mike's complaints about his sons' interference with Karen's cooking and holiday decorating, and even his and Abe's preparations for tonight and the ease in which they had found everything. To his astonishment, everything that he had seen, heard, and done over the past few weeks _did_ somewhat resemble the celebration that he had known.

He fought back tears at the revelation. He was foolish to think that the traditions of his youth had died forever when industrialization had started to change everyone's expectations and lifestyles. Yet, the familiar customs were hidden in plain sight, just as he had always been, and changed only to accommodate everyone's ability to enjoy the season.

Jo still waited for his response. "In some ways, you can, but you also have Charles Dickens to thank for that."

"How so?"

"By the time he wrote _A Christmas Carol_ , factory owners had required everyone in their employ to work on the holiday, and many people had stopped celebrating Christmas. In fact, commentators had suggested that it would become extinct within a few years. After the book's publication and enthusiastic reception, people began to practice what they had seen on the page. The Victorians' rituals became most of the customs that we see today."

"So, Dickens unwittingly did you a favor by writing about some of the ways Christmas was celebrated when you were younger?"

Henry wrinkled his eyebrows and then smiled. "I suppose so."

She shifted her weight on the sofa and looked back at him with a surprised expression. "A Christmas tree?"

She released his hands, stood up, and walked toward it. He joined her as she gently held an ornament in her hand. "Are these yours?"

He looked at one and cradled it. "They were one of Abe's finds at an estate sale earlier this year. He had tried to sell the collection, but no one had purchased it. When he had bought the tree, he thought that they would be perfect for it."

He inspected the glass ornament in his hand. Aesthetically, the baubles were quite pleasing to the eye. Perhaps, after the holiday, he and Abe could store them in the attic until they decided to erect another tree in the future.

He let go of the ornament and looked over his shoulder. Apparently, the events of the first two years after his transformation hadn't ruined his ability to celebrate the holiday. He would have never felt the strong desire to change his mind about hosting their dinner if he had wanted nothing to do with the season. Maybe he was meant to participate in the reveling as well, but he had never allowed himself the liberty to do so—until now.

She sighed. "It's a shame that no one wanted them. They're gorgeous."

Her comment attracted his attention to her. She admired the tree with an almost childlike wonder on her face. Her fingers caressed the adornments as she thoughtfully studied them. As far as he could tell, she was imagining the lives of the ornaments' previous owners.

He breathlessly watched her as she occupied herself with her thoughts and observations. He had never seen her like this before. It was a pleasant surprise to see her mind completely free from the concerns of the day. To see her enjoy something as simple as looking at a Christmas bauble.

He likely wouldn't wait very long to erect another tree. If the rest of the evening went well, for her delight as well as his own, he would decorate the apartment again next Christmas. That is, if they were still courting then.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The rotary phone's ring interrupted Henry's thoughts. He wove around the furniture until he reached the end table where the phone sat. The caller shouldn't be Lucas, Mike, or Lt. Reece. Their bosses had given them the holiday off, and both Lt. Reece and Lucas were hosting their out-of-state relatives this year. Hopefully, it wasn't Adam attempting to ruin the night. He should have moved indoors already or had traveled to a warmer climate days before the storm.

Curious about the caller, Henry picked it up. "Hello?"

He listened as a recording relayed a message from the city. He inhaled and knitted his eyebrows together in concern as he hung up.

"What is it?"

Jo's question prompted him to lay his eyes on her. "The city has ordered everyone off the streets now as a result of the increased snowfall."

"What?"

They and Abe walked over to the living room's windows and peered out at the street. The heavy snowfall now dimmed the street lights. Several mounds of snow had appeared where cars had been just a couple of hours before. Fortuitously, no one attempted to brave the deteriorating conditions.

Henry reached into his pocket to check the time, but his pocket watch wasn't there. He glanced down at his clothes. _Nuts!_ His watch and his waistcoat were both in his bedroom.

"I should change." He turned around and started to go to his bedroom.

Jo stepped in front of him, placed her hand on his chest, and smiled. "Don't."

He gazed into her eyes. As every speck of color held his attention, he momentarily forgot where his bedroom was or why he had wanted to go there. All that mattered was her.

The aromas of the various hot dishes brought him back to his senses. He glanced down at her clothes and back up at her. He would be overdressed tonight if he wore his waistcoat. In any case, formality didn't matter. Jo had seen him in informal attire during and immediately following their first case, and she was one of only three people—the other two being Abigail and Abe—around whom he had felt comfortable while wearing it.

One corner of his mouth raised up. "You're right. I don't know what I was thinking."

Jo smiled. Then, she suddenly became distracted and dropped the hand that was on him. After a moment, she closed her eyes.

"Nuts!" She opened her eyes. "I left my cell phone in the bathroom." She eased around him and rushed through the room.

As Henry watched her leave, his thoughts briefly migrated to his and Jo's workload after the storm. She and Mike would be called to any suspicious deaths that had occurred while everybody stayed indoors. Meanwhile, he would be busy presiding over the autopsies of those who had lost their lives in the blizzard's aftermath. Winter always portrayed itself as a season of death in spite of man's best efforts to fend it off with vaccines, a migration to a warmer environment, or increased vigilant care for those who were the most vulnerable. Yet, the serene, snowy sight hid winter's dangers from everyone—including him. It could be a while before he and Jo would have any time to themselves again.

The mistletoe caught Henry's eye. He pushed the thoughts about work out of his mind. Tonight, he, Abe, and Jo were to take their minds off of the outside world and focus on each other. Work could wait until after the blizzard had passed.

He looked around the room and then at the tree standing in the corner between the fireplace and the doors. Everything now appeared perfect. He noted every detail so that they could decorate the apartment the same way in the future.

His thoughts returned to the moments before his and Jo's interruption. Inserting his hands into his pockets, Henry turned to Abe. "I think that we might have a new owner for the ornaments that you had found."

Abe's eyes lit up. "Really? Who?"

"Us."

Abe's mouth dropped open, and he scrutinized the older Morgan. He opened and closed his mouth several times.

He then put a hand on one hip. "Who are you, and what did you do with Henry Morgan?"

Henry softly chuckled as he reveled in his newfound enjoyment of the season. "I'm serious. We haven't found an owner for them yet." He briefly removed one hand from his pocket and raised a finger into the air. "You can't blame me for the lack of sale as I had no prior attachment to them."

"I didn't say anything!"

Henry ignored his son's protest and paced along the front of the sofa. "Anyway, it would be nice to decorate the apartment for the holidays again. As we never had any ornaments, I think that it's time that we had acquired some."

Before Abe could respond, Jo's footsteps announced her arrival. Henry peered out the doors and saw her coming toward the men.

She triumphantly waved the device as she marched into the room. "Sorry about that." She set the phone down on the coffee table and looked at him. "I hope that you don't mind, but I found a bowl and used it to soak my blouse and pants."

A bowl? The same bowl that he used when he shaved his beard?

He gazed at Jo. It was impossible to become angry or upset with her. As it was her first time spending the night while sober, she had no way of knowing its purpose. Even if she did, her need for clean clothes was a higher priority than any childish assertion of his possession of the object.

"That's alright. We can wash them before you leave."

Jo wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion.

Abe quickly joined them. "We just got a washer and dryer and put them in the basement. Pops and I have been arguing about it—."

"We've been discussing it—."

Abe glared at him. "We've been talking about it for a while."

"Abraham! We've been discussing it for over 20 years!"

"Anyway, I don't know what had happened." Abe pointed at him. "But he finally agreed to it."

Jo crossed her arms and stared at Henry.

The truth must be told now. "During the Glenn Atkins case a few weeks ago, Lucas and I had spilled some sulfuric acid and ammonium hydroxide on the floor while running a qualitative inorganic analysis on the chemical samples that I was allowed to take home. We—."

Abe gaped. "Was this when you two had skunked the basement?"

Henry glowered at him. "I wouldn't call the incident that." At the time, though, the odor had reminded him of a skunk that he had encountered near the site of one of his awakenings years ago. Henry inhaled. "After loaning Lucas some clean clothes that, unfortunately, didn't fit him, we took the towels that we had used to clean up the chemicals and our malodorous clothes to the laundromat."

Jo nodded and bit her lower lip as she imagined their fellow customers' stares, wrinkled noses, impatience with the speed of the machines, and rapid movement toward the exits.

"After that, I decided that it would be prudent if we purchased the machines. That way, no one else would be affected by any of my experiments. I still dry clean my suits, but everything else can be laundered at home."

Jo uncrossed her arms. "Are you sure about this?"

As Henry felt her eyes search his, he knew what she was really asking. This would be the first time that he had washed a woman's dirty clothes since Abigail had left him and Abe. If Jo had needed the chore done at the onset of their relationship, he wouldn't have been able to bring himself to mention it. Now, since he knew the truth about Abigail's disappearance, he felt liberated to extend the offer to Jo.

"Yes, I'm sure." Henry softly chuckled. "We might be a little out of practice, but we'll survive."

Jo grinned. "I'm sure you'll do fine."

Just as the tantalizing smells caused Henry's stomach to growl, Abe looked at the clock. "Hey, Pops, if you want to uphold tradition…"

Henry followed Abe's gaze. It was already 7 PM.

"Shall we?" He motioned toward the door.

As Henry joined Jo, Abe followed closely behind him. "I know it's still early to talk about it, but, Jo, you could stay in the guest room tonight."

"No!" Henry was surprised by his and Jo's simultaneous response.

Henry peered at Abe as the younger Morgan joined his side. "During a traditional courtship, unmarried men and women were required to be separated—" he moved his hands apart "—at the end of the evening as to protect a woman's innocence, honor, and reputation. Since our guest bedroom is in the same part of the apartment as our personal bedrooms, it is a completely unacceptable place for her to sleep."

Jo walked up to the chair where he usually sat and stood behind it. "Besides, I've slept on the sofa before, and the idea doesn't bother me."

Henry lowered his eyes to the ground. The first time that she had spent the night with them, he had carried her upstairs and laid her on the sofa so she could sleep off her drunken stupor that had its origins in memories of Sean's death. Her overnight stays had happened a couple of additional times since then, and Henry had repeated his actions from that first night both times.

He looked back at her and smiled at her relaxed state tonight. This would be the first time that she would spend the night and would remember what happened the next morning.

He pulled out his chair and motioned for her to sit in it. Something about the gesture felt so right.

Her eyes met his as she sat. "Thank you."

As she gazed into his eyes, his words suddenly failed him. To express his pleasure in serving her, he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

"No PDAs in front of the kid!"

Henry pulled away, turned to Abe, and glared at him. _PDAs? Are those the personal digital assistants that I've read about in the business and technology sections of the newspaper in the 1990s?_

Beside him, he heard Jo laugh. "Seriously? You're grossed out by that?"

 _To answer my question, apparently not._

"No. I'm just giving Methuselah a hard time." He chuckled. "I'm thrilled that you might become a part of our family—."

 _Become a part of our family_. Abe's comment stunned Henry. For over thirty years, his family had consisted of only him and Abe. He knew that his and Jo's courtship was to determine if they were compatible for marriage, but he had never considered her as family before.

Henry walked around to Abe's usual seat, sat down, and examined the table. The eight dishes and the wine on the table made him wonder how he had survived a twelve-course, or even a twenty-course, meal with generous portions in his youth.

"Hmm." Jo's voice caught Henry's attention. "Everything looks good." She pushed a few loose strains of hair behind her ear before opening her napkin. "It reminds me of my family's usual dinners."

Her comparison immediately loosened Henry's tongue. "What was Christmas like when you were younger?"

"It was a typical American Christmas. We had a tree in our living room, and we put gifts under it to open on Christmas Day. My brother, sister, and I watched every Christmas special on TV that we could. Mom would cook a meal much like this one." She nodded to the plates of turkey, stuffing, gravy, roasted potatoes, roasted carrots, brussels sprouts, trifle, and apple pie.

Abe narrowed his eyes in confusion. "I thought—." East 116th Street was a historic Puerto Rican neighborhood. Although the area had received immigrants from Mexico and South America in recent years, there were a considerable number of people with ties to the American commonwealth. Most long-time residents of Puerto Rican heritage still enjoyed the traditions, customs, and food of the island.

"When I was five, my great-grandmother Torres visited us from the Island during the holidays. It was a disaster. She insisted that we all used Spanish at home, even thought my siblings and I didn't know the language at the time. She chewed out my parents for cooking a _pavoch_ _ó_ _n_ , roasted turkey, and mostly American dishes instead of _lech_ _ó_ _n asado_ , roasted pork, and the more traditional ones. She complained about the lack of _parrandas_ , unexpected Christmas caroling, in our building. She even made my brother, sister, and me wait until Epiphany before we received our gifts. We should have enjoyed learning more about our heritage, but her attitude made us wish that we never celebrated Christmas at all."

Jo sighed. "Afterward, my parents decided that they would never have another traditional celebration. We kept the desserts, the _coquito_ —eggnog made from coconut milk and rum—and the salsa dancing, but we generally celebrated like almost everyone else."

"Salsa dancing?"

"You've never salsa danced." That was a statement—and a very accurate observation at that. She leaned forward. "Tell you what. I'll teach you to salsa dance, and you teach me one of the dances from your teen years."

"I think that I could do that." He smiled at her. "Aside from the desserts, what is different about your meals?"

"We don't have brussels sprouts, but I'm willing to try at least one." She took the plate with the mentioned food and scooped a small portion for herself.

"Brussels sprouts are something that Abe and I usually eat when we have a craving for them. To our surprise, it's considered a traditional seasonal food in England these days."

Jo stared at him like she would when interrogating a suspect. "To our surprise?"

Henry inhaled. "This is our first Christmas celebration. I remember the decorations from my youth, but we had to research the meal."

Jo gaped as Abe nodded in confirmation. "What?"

Henry momentarily closed his eyes to steady his emotions. "Father died just before the season's start in 1813, and Nora and I ceased all social activities in accordance to the mourning etiquette of the day. 1814 would had been our first time hosting the festivities, but, as you know, it never happened. Since my first death, I never celebrated the holiday, not even when Abigail was with us."

Jo nodded as he passed her the gravy.

Abe glanced at her. "Of course, I grew up thinking that the day was fairly normal. It wasn't until I had become an adult when I discovered the holiday."

She mulled their story as she passed them two more dishes. She then eyed the room. "It doesn't look like this is your first one. Not bad for a pair of old guys."

Her playful smile at him simultaneously halted any offense from developing and stirred him. He returned her smile and glanced at his plate to control his urges.

They finished plating their food and began to eat. After a while, Jo suddenly pinched her nose. "Nuts! I forgot my presents to you two." She sighed. "Oh, well. I can give them to you when we dig my car out of a snowdrift."

Henry swallowed his bite of turkey. "Where are you parked?"

"On the side of the road near Clinton."

He turned to Abe, and Abe's expression conveyed the same idea that he had. "We'll exchange gifts then." He made a mental note to check her tail pipe for accumulated snow while they were there.

Henry took a quick look at the table. "What would you have done tonight if you were home?"

"I probably would have found something to watch on TV and daydreamed about making you watch _Pride and Prejudice_ just to hear you complain about what they got wrong, compare the book to the movie, or see you recognize one of the filming locations."

"I might take you up on it one day." He had no idea why he said that.

Abe nearly choked on his roasted potatoes. "Pops? Really? You would watch TV?"

"Love can make a man consider doing things that he would normally detest." He swallowed as he fought back the memory of how far he was willing to go for both Abigail and Jo.

As they continued talking and eating, Henry's mind used the painful memory of the days before he had revealed his condition to Jo as a starting point in reviewing their relationship. Since their first case, she had been a part of their lives. They always shared in each other's joys and sorrows and supported each other in their time of need. Even if there was still so much to tell each other about their lives, they had come to know each other almost as well as they knew themselves. If something were to happen to Jo, it would devastate him as Abigail's disappearance had years before. Somehow, Jo had become family without him realizing it.

Henry looked at her as he took a sip of wine. He felt his motivation to determine their compatibility starting to decrease. In its place, hope for a continuation of their relationship throughout her life began to grow. At that moment, he found himself wishing that, one day, this could be a constant part of their future.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Henry received the last plate from Abe, rinsed it in the sink, and set it on the rack. He turned around and watched Jo as she sat on the sofa. He smiled. Their dinner had gone quite well. If they were still courting next year, they would certainly have another celebration like tonight's fete.

The rapidly falling snow outside the living room windows reminded him that she was still his guest through at least Christmas morning. He started to think about breakfast. He recalled the amounts of ingredients that he had asked her to pick up and what they had in the refrigerator. He bit his lower lip in thought. They had more than enough food for the dish that he was thinking about.

He spun around to face Abe. "Abe, would you mind if we didn't have our usual breakfast tomorrow?"

His son dried his hands on the dishtowel over his shoulder. "Why do you ask?"

"Since Jo's our guest, I thought that we could make omelets instead." Jo had once mentioned that it was her favorite breakfast dish. Based on his observations of her eating habits, she rarely had the opportunity to partake of it.

"You want to do something special for her." Abe grinned. "No, I don't mind." He then chuckled. "I was wondering what to cook anyway. From what I've read online, everyone else has a special breakfast on Christmas morning. I didn't know if you wanted to break with our tradition tomorrow since we've decided to do this tonight."

Abe studied him for a moment and muttered. "Since we're finished with the dishes…"

He walked toward the living room and stood in the threshold. "I'm going to my bedroom to give you two some privacy. I'll see you in the morning."

Jo looked at the younger Morgan. "Good night."

Abe turned to head to his room just as Henry arrived at the door. Abe smirked and patted him on the shoulder before leaving.

Henry entered the room and glanced over his shoulder at a disappearing Abe. His son was proving to be a mischievous chaperone.

He sighed as he focused his attention on Jo. He wasn't expecting this.

Jo ran her hand through her hair. "I don't think we've had this much time alone since we've started courting."

"We haven't." Either Abe's presence in the room or a lead in a case had usually interrupted them as they had begun to take advantage of some spare time.

He joined her on the sofa. As he sat down, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and took her hand in his free hand. She moved closer to him. He briefly closed his eyes in pleasure. It felt so good to have her sitting beside him.

He remembered her plans for the evening if things were different, and his heart broke. In spite of her typical inability to revel with everyone else as a result of her work, Jo clearly enjoyed the season. If they had their usual gift exchange this year, she wouldn't had celebrated the occasion.

"Considering the circumstances, I'm glad that you are enjoying yourself tonight." He smiled as he thought of her joy.

She grinned. "I really am."

His mind went back to a recent event that occurred earlier in the month. "I had wanted to invite you to accompany me to the OCME's office party this year—."

She opened and closed her mouth several times. "What?" He could tell that she also suspected that she had played a role in his decision.

"Lucas had been attempting to convince me to attend it since we had first started working together, but I never had the desire to go. This year…" He rubbed his tongue over his lips in a slight case of nervousness.

"You had a reason." She smiled at him. "I would have loved to have gone with you just to see the look on his and your colleagues' faces when you showed up." She chortled. "Lucas would have tackled you the second that he saw you enter the room."

Henry chuckled and nodded. Since the first night that he had joined Jo, Lucas, and Mike at McSorley's for drinks, his assistant had a tendency to give him an enthusiastic hug every time he would join the young man in a social activity.

Jo sighed. "That case—."

"Let's not discuss it tonight." The recent case, an entire family's suspicious deaths, had disturbed everyone working it. If she contemplated it, she would never get any rest during the night.

She looked up at him. "You're right. Tonight's about us—and Abe if he stayed up."

"Knowing him, he's reading and listening to one of his jazz records right now." It would be a surprise if he was listening to Chopin instead.

Jo turned to face him. "Before you came in, I was thinking about when we had first met."

A strand of hair fell across her face. Henry let go of her hand and brushed the errant hair back. As his hand reached behind her ear, she gazed into his eyes.

"What about it?" He reluctantly pulled his hand away from her face and took her hand again.

"Back then, I never imagined that the 'weirdest, creepiest, most unusual person I've ever met' would become one of the most important men in my life." She softly chuckled as her eyes shone. "I'm still amazed that the man I had met then is the same one who—well, with the help of his son—did all this for me tonight." She smiled. "I feel very fortunate that you let me into your life like you have."

He looked thoughtfully at her. She was genuinely in love with him and not some ideal that she had held from the time that he had revealed his age to her. He never should have doubted that for a moment, not even during his nervousness about tonight's festivities.

A mischievous glint suddenly appeared in her eyes. The longer that he regarded it, the more he wanted to respond in kind. He suddenly pulled her closer to him.

"Henry Morgan!" She nudged him with her shoulder. "Are you trying to disturb Abe?" She sobered—for a second. "You know, I can find a working firearm in here."

"You would draw Abe's attention if you fire it, and only if you could find one." Fortunately for him—if she was serious—Abe's rifle was in his closest.

She jovially huffed and then laughed at what had become their personal joke. "Well, I'll have to find some other way to stop you."

They feel silent as they lost themselves in each other's eyes. She could do or say anything, and he would surrender himself completely to her desires.

Remembering the purpose of their current relationship, Henry lowered his eyes so he could resist the temptation to passionately kiss her. The carefree moment had been so natural. He, however, needed to comport himself like a perfect gentleman. He took a look at her and observed that she was attempting to conduct herself in a similar manner.

They had the rest of the evening to themselves, and neither of them were tired. Henry suddenly felt lost. He had no idea of how they would spend the time.

Memories of past Christmases and of his marriage to Abigail came to him. As much as he enjoyed dancing, it didn't appeal to him right now. There were too few people for singing. Jo didn't read poetry as she didn't like it. Even if she had preferred it, he would become tempted to indulge his urges if he read over her shoulder.

She shifted her weight. "I've never let you finish telling me about that play your sister Grace had written."

He looked over at her in amazement. He had almost forgotten about storytelling.

His mind went back to the production. "It was a retelling of a pantomime that we had seen the year before."

"Pantomime? As in miming?"

He nodded. "Yes, it was popular among the gentry back then. In our production for our parents, we tried to adhere to the traditional gender roles. There was this one scene where we needed another woman, and I found myself playing the role at the bequest of my siblings."

Jo burst into laughter. Once it slowed, she faced him. "Did you wear a dress?"

"Gratefully, no. I don't think I could have figured out how to get into one. Yet, it didn't matter as we never considered wearing costumes."

Jo sat silently for a moment. "I haven't heard all of your stories about what you were like when you were a kid."

He could never deny her what she wanted. He slowly stroked her fingers as he thought about what his first story would be. She snuggled closer to him and leaned against his chest. Soon, he began to share one incident about his childhood.

Eventually, her questions and reactions to his tales and her own stories from her past trailed off, and he felt her head resting on his shoulder. The faint scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her body, and the slowness of her breathing stilled his thoughts. He looked down at her and smiled at her enjoyment of the evening and of her unexpected overnight stay so far. For the moment, nothing else mattered.

He looked at the ornaments on the tree one more time. Everything seemed perfect. Well, almost everything. Something was missing.

"Daddy?"

He turned around and looked down at his four-year-old daughter, the spirit and image of Jo at that age, staring up at him inquisitively.

Henry squatted down and placed his hands on his knees. "What?"

"Can I put the star on the tree?" She extended the missing ornament to him.

He chuckled. "Of course, you should."

He reached out to the young girl. As he picked her up, she shrieked for joy and giggled. After stepping over to the tree, he lifted her up and sat her on his shoulder so she could reach the top of the tree. She reached out and pushed the adornment down on top.

She turned her head and beamed. "I did it, Daddy!"

"Yes, you did, and you've done a marvelous job!" He lowered her until she was at eye level and proudly kissed her on the cheek.

"Don't eat the cookies! They're for Santa!"

Henry glanced down and noticed his and Jo's six-year-old son standing near the end table closest to the doors and giving their two-year-old daughter a furious look. She slowly withdrew her hand from the plate of cookies that the children had set out for "Santa". Hoping that an argument wouldn't break out, Henry lowered his other daughter to the floor and watched as she ran off to the kitchen to tell Jo what she had done.

Abe swerved around the proud girl to avoid a collision and stepped into the living room. "I see you've got the tree decorated." He looked expectantly at his siblings. "Do you want to get the gifts that you got for Pops and your mom?"

Henry's youngest son grinned. "Yeah!" He left his post and raced toward his bedroom.

The youngest girl toddled over to Abe and studied him for a moment. "You San-ta?"

Abe's mouth dropped open. "Um…"

Henry looked over and noticed Jo in the threshold. Her eyes and mouth widened in surprise.

He swallowed. This was the first time that they had to tell a two-year-old the truth about his or her older brother.

Just then, Jo's hand dropped away from his lower back.

The incongruity of her being in two places at once caused what he was seeing to fade. He opened his eyes and looked around. They were still on the sofa, and his arm was still around her shoulder. Somehow, their other hands were not where he remembered them. Her hand now laid on his chest, and his hand rested on her waist.

He removed his hand from her waist and wiped his face. _I must have dozed off_.

Sleep started to overcome him again. Henry closed his eyes and placed his hand back where he had found it. He was so comfortable with Jo next to him…

Suddenly, his eyes flew open. He had fallen asleep with Jo in his arms.

His heart started to race as he fully woke up. He had _never_ intended for them to find themselves in this position.

Not wanting to wake her, he slipped his hand off her waist again, gently removed his arm from her shoulder, nudged her off him, and sat her up. He eased off the sofa, supporting her with his hands as he moved. Once off, he lowered her onto the seat and stepped away.

He took a deep breath to calm himself and focused on getting her a blanket and a pillow. As he walked toward the guest bedroom, his mind returned to what he had seen moments ago. It was so real that he didn't even know that he had fallen asleep. In fact, it was almost like a memory or, incredibly, a vision.

That was nonsense. Likely, his subconscious had made random connections from the evening's events. While he had slept, those ideas had manifested themselves in the vivid dream that he just had.

He noticed the end of the hallway growing closer with each step. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he stopped and stepped back to the guest bedroom. He opened the door and stripped the necessary items from the bed. He rearranged the objects so that they wouldn't fall out of his arms, walked out of the room, and started back for the living room.

Once he arrived at the living room's threshold, he stopped and gazed at a sleeping Jo. In his heart, he knew that the connections weren't random. The topics of marriage and a shared life had entered his and Jo's conversations over the last few weeks, and their weighing of the benefits and liabilities of a life together were becoming more frequent with each passing day. They hadn't breached the topic of having biological children yet, but he knew from his marriage to Abigail that the conversation would arise and that they would likely try to have one. Likewise, they hadn't discussed living together, but the night's events had given him a minute, but rather delightful, taste of what it would be like if they were under the same roof.

Years ago, Abigail had made him promise that he would find someone else to accompany him on his journey through life after her passing. At the time, he had believed that his death would annul his promise to her. After she had walked out on him, he had not felt that another woman would be willing to spend her life with him until Jo had walked into his morgue. Now, he found himself thinking that he and Jo were possibly meant to be together for the remainder of her life.

He needed to bring his and Jo's courtship to its logical and natural conclusion soon. A conclusion in which Christmases like this would be an annual event for them. One in which the addition of more children to their family would be welcomed. Where this apartment, or wherever they would live, would be their sanctuary from constant exposure to life's harsher realities. Where he and Jo could fall asleep in each other's arms without fear of impropriety.

In short, he needed to ask Jo for her hand in marriage.

There was just one thing stopping him: Mrs. Martinez's lack of knowledge about his condition. If a difficulty concerning his immortality or his youthful appearance arose, she would suspect something if Jo became evasive during their conversations or if he and Jo suddenly disappeared.

He inhaled. He knew what he must do before he could propose to Jo. Once he saw the opportunity, he would take it.

In the meantime, Jo was probably becoming uncomfortable and would wake up soon. Henry walked over to the sofa and laid the blanket and pillow at her feet. He picked up the pillow, gently lifted her head, and tucked the cushion under her head. He took the blanket and covered her with it. He then leaned over and gave her a soft goodnight kiss on her cheek.

As he left the room for his bed, he took one last look at her for the night. One corner of his mind told him that things would look differently in dawn's first light. Yet, for the first time since the night before his and Abigail's wedding, he wished that a good night's sleep wouldn't change how he felt. Right now, he wanted what he was thinking and feeling to last.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The sudden rattle of the radiator was the first thing that Henry heard. He began to stir in his bed. The material against his skin felt different, and it finally startled him awake.

He took a deep breath and then chuckled. During the night, he had felt that his usual t-shirt and boxer shorts wouldn't keep him warm enough. He got up, pulled a pair of sweat pants out of the closet, and slipped them on. He then checked on Abe and Jo to see if they were becoming cold. Satisfied with seeing their comfort as they slept, he headed back to bed and had quickly fallen asleep again once he had laid down.

 _Jo_.

He rose from his bed and walked into the living room. He smiled as he watched her sleep. Her position was the near-perfect match to the first time that she had slept on his sofa. This time, her slumber was from a peaceful and joyful evening and not a drunken stupor.

He looked out the window. The snowfall was still heavy, and the wind blew it toward the shop. The weather conditions reminded him of his, Abigail's, and Abe's second December in New York. If the more recent weather pattern was similar, it would be another day before the snow plows could open the two streets which bordered the building.

He sighed. Once they could dig themselves out of the snowdrifts, she would leave the shop for her house in Washington Heights. If they were already married, she would remain here with him, and they would be able to spend more time together before they needed to report to work.

His thoughts from hours earlier came back, and he began to smile again. In the morning's first light, he still viewed Jo as his future wife.

A ring interrupted his thoughts, and he quickly recognized that it was coming from Jo's cell phone. Wanting to give her some extra sleep, he walked over to the coffee table, picked it up, and headed toward the kitchen. Hopefully, the caller was Lucas, Lt. Reece, or Mike and Karen calling to wish them a merry Christmas. If it were Lucas or Mike, he could expect some teasing and a myriad of prying questions from both men once they returned to work.

Henry looked at the screen and swallowed when he saw the name of Jo's mother.

It was now or never. He nervously tapped on the screen and sat down in his usual chair at the table. "Hello? Mrs. Martinez?"

"Henry? Is that you? What are you doing with Jo's cell phone?"

He looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice. "I thought that you were one of our colleagues, and I wanted to give Jo a few extra minutes of sleep."

Mrs. Martinez chuckled. "Okay. I see. Did you two enjoy your night last night?"

"We had."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Henry licked his lips, leaned forward, and inhaled in an attempt to slow his racing heart. "Mrs. Martinez, after the blizzard ends and the travel ban is lifted, I would like to meet with you again. There, um, there was something that I had omitted when I had asked you for your permission to date Jo. I would like to discuss the matter with you and to explain my rationale for leaving it out."

"Are you dying?"

His eyes widened at the unexpected question that instantly invited him to tell her the truth. "On the contrary. I'm perfectly healthy, and I'm expected to live a _very_ long life."

He felt a pair of eyes on him. He turned around and saw Jo standing behind him. Her arms were crossed over her chest, but he could see her mind piecing together what was happening.

Mrs. Martinez's chortle redirected his attention to their conversation. "That's good. You don't have any weird arrests, do you?"

Jo stepped over to him and motioned for her phone. He gladly relinquished it as he tried to end his embarrassment at the thought of telling his future mother-in-law about the nature of his numerous arrests.

"Hi, Mom!"

"Jo! Did you have a good night's sleep?"

Jo's eyes met his, and she smiled. "I did. I just woke up."

She nervously glanced down at the floor and then looked at him. "Listen, when Henry talks to you, is it alright if Abe is with him? He has some additional insight into the situation, and he might be able to help you understand it better."

Mrs. Martinez was silent for a moment. "Sure. Why not? I don't see the harm."

Jo let out a breath. "Great!"

A young girl's voice called for her grandmother. Mrs. Martinez addressed the child before returning to the phone. "I'll see you both later. Enjoy yourselves and merry Christmas."

Henry and Jo both said, "Merry Christmas!"

As Jo ended the call and set the phone on the table, she studied him for a moment. "You don't have to tell Mom about your immortality"

He rose from his seat, guided her to the folding doors, and took her hands into his. "If we are to be married, I feel that it's absolutely necessary. You and your mother are close, and I don't want you to lie to her in order to protect me." He chuckled. "Trust me. It was difficult when I had lied to you during our first year of working together, and you remember what had happened. I don't want the same thing to happen to you."

She nodded in agreement. Then, she removed her hands from his, wrapped her arms around his neck, and smiled. "Thanks."

She paused, and he placed his hands around her waist. "What happened last night? The last thing that I remember is trying to stay awake during one of your stories about Christmas when you were a kid."

"Physically, nothing. The second that I realized what had happened, I got up from the couch and left for bed."

He gazed at her. His words could not fully convey how his view of her had changed during that moment.

He leaned over and placed his lips on hers. His chaste kiss immediately deepened into a lover's kiss. Without delay, she slid her hands up to his nape. The second that her hands rested on his neck, he could feel his ungentlemanlike impulses begin to take over. To control them, he reached around her waist and interlaced his fingers behind her back. Surprisingly, that caused her kiss to deepen even more, and she slid her hands back down to his shoulders to restrain herself.

He was enjoying their kiss so much that he barely heard a shutter close. Once the sound registered, he and Jo stopped and pulled away to see where the sound had originated.

Henry looked over into the kitchen. A grinning Abe stood at the island and held Jo's phone in his hands.

"I want a copy after you see it." Abe then studied his father as he laid the phone on the table. "Pops, seriously? You wanted to match Jo this morning?"

Henry looked down and then back at his son. "I felt slightly chilly last night, and I wanted to wear something warmer."

"Yeah. Sure. Right. Whatever, Dad."

Jo's giggle and the weight of her arms around his neck drew his attention away from his offense at Abe's comment and onto her joy. Henry stood there and enjoyed the feel of her in his arms.

Abe cleared his throat. "After I get out of the bathroom, I'm cooking breakfast. That should give you two lovebirds a few more minutes to yourselves."

Once Abe left the room, Jo turned to him. "Why did Abe take a picture of us just then?"

Henry noticed their location, and he remembered his initial reluctance about one specific ornament. He looked up.

She followed his gaze. As she looked back at him, she pieced together what had happened. "Oh."

She smiled. "We have a mischievous chaperone with a vested interest in our relationship." She then slid her right hand down his shoulder until it rested over his scar on his chest. "So, tell me, what's the deal about mistletoe?"

Her intimate touch and her playful smile stirred his own amorous nature, and he felt the corners of his mouth tug upward. "Well, when I was a very young man, a young woman standing under the mistletoe could not refuse a kiss from a man. After kissing, she would remove a berry from the bush. Once all the berries were gone, people could not kiss under it for fear of bad luck."

"As long as I'm here, I have no intention to pluck a single berry." She paused. "How about lovers?"

The significance of the tradition suddenly hit him, causing his longings to return. "If two lovers were to kiss under the mistletoe, it was viewed as a promise of marriage."

Jo's eyes widened. After a moment, her smile returned, and he felt her hand returned to its original position over his shoulder.

"Promise of marriage? I like the sound of that." She then tilted her head up, and her lips touched his.

As they began to kiss again, Henry let her words fill him with joy. He needed to wait until after he told her mother about his condition before he could officially propose to Jo. He, however, didn't care at the moment. He was already looking forward to the day when they would kiss under the mistletoe annually—as husband and wife.

 **Author's Note:** I had to research what Henry's and Jo's Christmases would have been like in their childhoods and in Henry's mortal life. (I'm old enough to have a good idea of Jo's Christmases, so I didn't conduct too much research!) Since Fanfiction strips the links, you can PM me if you want them.


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